


Emergency Alert.  Emergency Alert.

by Aquelon



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: Everyone Else is at minimum implied to be present but obviously may not be mentioned, Gen, I had some headcanons for how S9DX started so I wrote them up, Jaylen is noteworthily here and so is Stu Trololol and Nagomi, Season 9 Day X, also someone gets ambiguously threatened with a Literal Arm Cannon for about 5 seconds, haha blaseball time oh no, spooky times and angsty times a bit, when I say noteworthily I mean sort of noteworthily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:00:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26963326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquelon/pseuds/Aquelon
Summary: The moments between the Emergency Alert and the start of Day X.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Emergency Alert.  Emergency Alert.

Stu Trololol slides into home plate and the Shoe Thieves get five precious seconds to realize they’ve won the championships. Five seconds is certainly not long enough to celebrate, though, before an alarm goes off.  
An unfamiliar voice starts repeating, “Emergency Alert”.  
A single peanut shell crashes through the waves of reverb and bounces off the field.

In Los Angeli, a Smash Bros tournament among the Tacos pitchers ends mid-game: Sexton Wheerer watches with some confusion as his fellow pitchers all disconnect simultaneously. “Hey, is the wifi down or something?”

In San Francisco, NaN looks up abruptly. “It’s happening?” they ask the feedback in the back of their head. The clouds looming overhead look ominous and oddly multicoloured. They raise their voice so the rest of the Lovers can hear. “We-- we need to get inside. We need to take cover.”

In Philadelphia, a giant peanut shell sits, looking suddenly ominous. In Miami and in Hades, a sense that something is wrong pervades. In Dallas, Sixpack Dogwalker curls up under a table, barking at falling peanuts that the birds are chasing after. In Hawai’i, the shadow of a cloud falls over the party.

In Charleston, the sky goes pitch black. The Peanut appears overhead, rotating slowly. The Crabs and Shoe Thieves both look up in horror.  
The stadium seems to come apart, the ground changing from normal ground to something that looks a little like sand, or maybe salt and bits of peanut. The Crabs are pushed off the field by the ripple of the change, with the exception of Axel Trololol’s shell.  
The Crabs wind up about where the stands should be, and in fact the stands are popping up behind them, much larger than usual. A glass wall springs up between the Crabs and the field, almost unimaginably tall.

Across the stadium, in another section of the stands, the Garages appear. In another section, so do the Pies (with some exceptions). Both teams look confused.  
The rest of the teams materialize in the stands with equal amounts of confusion and concern. In the Moist Talkers, Fish Summer tries to shake PolkaDot Patterson awake, to no effect. In the Pies, Jaxon Buckley does a headcount, then does another headcount, then, just in case one of the two absent players was hiding behind a bench or something, does a third headcount.  
The Peanut continues to rotate and talk. Small peanuts bounce off the field, and in the cacophony, large peanuts start to crash into the field, one by one.

The large peanut shells start to… crack? To come apart?

Stu gasps. “Axel?”  
Esme Ramsey, meanwhile, is looking across the field. “Holy crap, Jess’s back!”  
Without even realizing it, Jaylen Hotdogfingers is checking her pulse again. “Guys... something isn’t right.”  
Stu steps towards Axel, holding her arms out for a hug. “Didn’t know when I’d see you again!! I--”  
There’s a distinct gun cocking noise from Axel’s Literal Arm Cannon as he levels it at Stu’s face.  
Stu takes a step back. “A-Axel?”

In the stands, Nagomi Mcdaniel is on their feet, pressed up against the glass wall squinting at the team assembling outside. A smaller shape than most of the others steps out of one of the shells. Even from a moderate distance, Nagomi recognizes that silhouette.  
It’s York Silk.  
But something is horribly wrong.  
Nagomi taps on the glass wall, then pounds on it harder and harder. She slams their crab claw against it, throws her weight at it, hits it with their blaseball bat with a swing that could bend metal. The glass doesn’t even crack.

There’s a pitching mound in the middle of the field, still. It’s abundantly clear from everything going on that someone has to pitch. Jaylen is still checking her pulse, though for once she doesn’t need to: her heart is pounding harder than it ever has before. She looks at the other Shoe Thieves pitchers, who all are looking just as concerned as she feels. She looks at the formerly-shelled players and remembers flames spiralling out of control from the tips of her fingers.  
“I’ll pitch this game,” she says, the fear in her voice covered up with a growing layer of anger.  
No one argues.

Sixpack growls at the Peanut that is still rotating menacingly in the sky. NaN puts one hand up against the glass wall and just stares at their former former teammates. Birds swirl, blood gurgles, waves crash, and peanuts bounce off the field, but for the moment the dominant weather is the shriek of pure staticky panic that seems to be coming from both Receivers.

When the Peanut speaks again, all of its Pods echo its words in unison: “TIME TO TEACH YOU SOME DISCIPLINE.”

Jaylen checks her pulse one last time, then picks up the ball. The game is on.


End file.
